Friends Never Say Goodbye
by VampirePam
Summary: Alternate Ending. What would have happened had Tulio decided at the last second to stay with Miguel in El Dorado, letting Chel sail off with the gold. Miguel/Tulio.


The first thing Miguel registered was the cool wafting of a breeze against his cheeks. He smiled a little and stirred, feeling like a cat lying in the sun...well, a cat that happened to have gotten its head slammed in a closing door two or three times.

He frowned. Why did his head ache so? He tried to cast his mind back, but it was all a blur. A crowd of people gathered, shouting. The blinding light produced by piles and piles of gold, gleaming in the sunlight. And somehow he was above it all, soaring through - no, surely that couldn't be right.

Perhaps it was a relic from some half-remembered dream. In it, he was a golden comet, floating over the sea toward...

"Tulio!" His voice sounded so rough, so weak. Gods, what had he done to himself?

To his surprise, he heard an all too familiar voice reply, "Miguel?" Soon hands were shaking him gently by the shoulders, as his name was repeated with more urgency. "Miguel!"

Miguel blinked his eyes open. He felt the slight panic of moments before dissolve into relief as the face hovering above his came into focus. His relief only increased when the face began to speak.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking out there?!" Tulio demanded. "Of all the stupid, irresponsible, ridiculous ideas that you have ever had - and that's a contest with a few _thousand _entries -"

Miguel smiled. This was no dream; no mere creation of his mind could hope to yell at him with a tenth of the the vigor and commitment that the real Tulio could manage.

"The head, dear fellow," he muttered fondly, hoping to persuade Tulio into resuming his diatribe at a lower volume, "Easy on the head."

"If you think playing that old card is going to get you out of this one, amigo..." Tulio paused in his diatribe to skim a hand carefully over Miguel's hairline, stopping at the section Miguel recognized as the source of the ache.

Miguel couldn't resist reaching up to grab Tulio's hand before observing, "Mmm, you look more worried than that time I bet all of our money on that dancing monkey in Seville."

"That _monkey_ not only failed to win the limbo contest, he _stabbed_ me in the _butt_ with a miniature sword!" Tulio retorted, gesturing emphatically with the hand that was not resting in Miguel's. "But even that was a better plan than trying to fix our sail by _flying headfirst into it_!"

"The flying was real?" Miguel murmured appreciatively, "And here I was, thinking I dreamed it."

Suddenly, it all came rushing back - the sail, the pillar, the boat... "Tulio, the boat!" he exclaimed, sitting up with a jolt, "Chel! The gold! You're supposed to be halfway to Spain right now, what -"

He halted mid-sentence, his attention drawn by the entrancing way the golden wall hangings and azure tapestries seemed to be dancing a lively paso doble with one another.

"Easy does it, old friend," Tulio murmured, pressing him back down onto the soft cushions. "It's bad form to tempt fate twice in one day, even for a god."

Miguel nodded a little reluctantly and shut his eyes, waiting for the world to stop spinning.

"Now, if you _promise_ me you won't try that again, I will tell you the ridiculous tale of Lord Miguel, the flying mandolinist from Mantua, and his daring confrontation with the mast of a ship."

Miguel opened his eyes and began to respond, but Tulio stopped him with the press of a finger on his lips. "Uh, uh, uh," he admonished lightly, "No moving, you promised."

Miguel rolled his eyes, but acquiesced - there was no use arguing with Tulio when he was in this sort of mood. He'd sworn long ago to take to his grave how much he secretly enjoyed it.

"Our story starts with the dashing and handsome Lord Tulio, perched upon the prow of a magnificent ship, laden down with all the gold he could ever hope to want. The only thing standing between him and the open ocean is the slight problem of an unfurled sail -"

"Slight?!" Miguel demanded, batting Tulio's hand away. "If that's what you're calling a slight problem, old boy, I think it's your head that's in need of examination, not mine."

"A problem, which," Tulio continued loudly, "he would have had well in hand, given a moment to think."

Miguel snorted disbelievingly, but raised his hands in supplication when Tulio sent him what he undoubtedly considered to be a threatening glance.

"It was at this point that Lord Miguel, too entranced with the thought of being the shining knight on the white horse to think of such a paltry matter as his own safety, applied his head, not to remembering he was not really an Aztec god, but to the underside of the boom, accidentally releasing the sail in the process."

"Well, I hardly think the color of the horse matters..." Miguel muttered after a minute, reflexively rubbing the growing bump on his temple - though it still ached, at least the dizziness seemed to have lessened.

"And anyway, it might be a bit fuzzy, but I do know that bit," he continued insistently. "It still doesn't explain why you're sitting here talking to me instead of sipping a cervesa on a beach with Chel."

"Oh, yes, Miguel, I should have just dumped you overboard, should I?" Tulio inquired facetiously. "Maybe left you lying on the beach with a gaping head wound?"

"You worry too much," Miguel insisted, although Tulio's concern warmed him considerably. "I had everything under control. I would have taken care of it."

"You were _unconscious_!" Tulio shouted. He sprang up from his side at Miguel's side and began to pace back and forth as continued, "_Nothing _was under control. You could have taken care of _nothing _because you were _unconscious!_"

"Minor details, old chap," Miguel said, "I never worry about those until the last possible second."

Tulio began to run his hands through his long, dark hair with such fervor that Miguel was a little afraid he would pull some of it out. "Minor details, he says! Just when I thought there was no new plateau of _insane _optimism you could reach, you outdo yourself again! My most sincere congratulations!"

"And you wonder why I couldn't leave!" Tulio continued, raising his hands from his hair and into the air. "You can't even last ten seconds by yourself without putting your life in mortal danger!

"Me?" Miguel exclaimed, "What about you? You think I would have risked harming all of this," he gestured to his face, "if I didn't knowyou were _completely_ incapable of thinking up a plan without me?"

"Besides," Miguel continued with a sniff, "I think you are forgetting that I managed very well for twenty years without you, dear fellow."

"Managed?" Tulio exclaimed, "You were begging for scraps on the streets of Madrid when I found you!"

"When _you_ found _me_? I was the one who found you, or have you forgotten your ill-fated attempts at making a living on the stage?"

Miguel would never forget the first time he saw Tulio - a swarthy Ulysses, laurel wreath askew, striding across a stage, trying in vain to test the fidelity of an inebriated Penelope with a full orange beard. It was love at first sight...at the very least, lust and extreme interest.

"Better an actor than a beggar!" Tulio insisted stubbornly.

His acting career had lasted approximately an hour following that particular performance, just long enough for Miguel to corner him in the nearest bar and convince him that his talents could be put to better use...elsewhere.

"And better a new relationship than an old one, hmm?" Miguel shouted back at him. And there it was. He and Tulio had pulled a lot of cons over the years, but this was the first time either of them had ever tried to turn that power on the other. The thought of it ached far more than his head wound.

"Oh, I see we're back to that again! What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry?" Though still definitely indignant, Tulio now looked distinctly less sure of his position.

_Yes. Please, Tulio, please be sorry. _"It would be a start," Miguel said instead.

"All right, I'm _sorry _that the girl wanted me for once, Miguel! I'm _sorry_ that I liked it! I'm _sorry_ that I did to you what you've done to me a hundred times over!"

Miguel couldn't believe what he was hearing - Tulio really thought that's all this was. "That's the worst apology I've ever heard!" Miguel exclaimed incredulously, "And what do you mean what I've done to you? There may have been girls, Tulio, but I _never _would have dreamed for an _instant _to put any of them ahead of what we have."

"I-" Tulio began to retort, but cut himself off abruptly. He made a few subsequent attempts to speak, but each time stopped just short of getting anything out. Miguel watched with interest as he appeared to carry on some sort of silent negotiation with himself, flinging out first one hand, then the other in wild gesticulations.

Finally, however, his hands dropped to his sides, his shoulders sagged, and he turned to face Miguel once more. "Oh God, I'm in the wrong, aren't I?" Tulio said, now looking utterly dejected. "I screwed up. This is all my fault."

"That is _rather_ what I've been trying to say," Miguel replied, but there was no bite in it. He was far too happy for "I told you so's".

"I'm just so used to everything being _your _fault that I...I didn't see it coming!" Tulio resumed his position next to Miguel on the bed with a sigh.

He looked so crestfallen that Miguel couldn't resist laying a hand on his cheek before saying, "Only you, dearest Tulio, could finish such a lovely apology with an insult."

"Now wait just one moment, I -" This time it was Miguel who did not let him finish, but instead leaned up to brush his lips over his partner's.

Tulio stiffened for only an instant before relaxing into the kiss. His hands trailed slowly up Miguel's thighs before coming to rest on his waist, drawing him in possessively.

Miguel, meanwhile, took the opportunity to trail his fingers slowly down Tulio's neck, stopping only when he reached that spot he knew would make him shiver.

After so many years, Tulio's body was as familiar to him as his own, yet it never ceased to excite him the things he could do to it. The echoing shiver running through his own body as Tulio grazed his bottom lip with his teeth was a very tangible reminder of how it excited him equally how much the reverse was also true.

Though this sort of thing would, in the past, have surely led to other, rather more acrobatic activities, Miguel mused regretfully that even for him, any action of that sort in his current activity would be likely to end in in the decidedly unromantic event of him injuring himself further. Judging by the unaccustomed delicacy with which Tulio was handling him, he felt it safe to assume that his partner agreed.

A little while later, Miguel pulled back when he realized, a tad belatedly, that being deprived of air was not exactly helping his dizziness. When Tulio sent him a look of concern, however, he made sure to give him a little nod and what he could manage of a smile.

It was Tulio, however, who spoke first. "I'm sorry I lied," he said quietly, running his fingers through Miguel's hair. "I'm sorry I yelled. And I'm so, so sorry that my moment of madness meant that you got hurt."

Miguel did not have to force the smile he gave Tulio before leaning up to brush his lips over his partner's forehead. "For what's it worth, I'm sorry about Chel. I quite liked her, in spite of it all."

"She'll be all right," Tulio said, with a shrug. "After all, she got what she wanted all along. I was probably just an amusing distraction."

"I doubt that very much," Miguel said. He reached up to brush a stray lock of hair behind Tulio's ear. "You, my good man, are very difficult to leave behind."

Tulio smiled. "Yes, well," he murmured, avoiding Miguel's gaze, "I'm not the only one."

"Oh Tulio, I didn't want it to happen like this," Miguel said. He needed Tulio to know that he realized what he had given up. "I wanted you to stay, but because you wanted to. Not because I botched a rescue attempt badly enough that you had to save me,"

"That's not why I stayed," Tulio said, raising his eyes to Miguel's. "Not really."

When Miguel merely looked at him expectantly, Tulio began, "All these years chasing the gold and the adventure, I've never seen you want to stay in one spot before. But you deserve that - a place that feels like home."

"Not to question such a charming sentiment, old boy," Miguel said in return, "but that covers why I'm sitting here - why are you?"

Tulio paused, as if considering. Finally he started, "If you repeat this, I shall say I was drunk..."

"And no doubt anyone listening would have little trouble believing it," Miguel agreed.

Tulio paused again, before taking Miguel's hand. "You're here because this place means home to you. I'm here...because you mean home to me, Miguel. Always have, really. Not Spain, not gold, just you. So I suppose that means...I don't care where I am, as long as you're there."

Miguel froze. They had never really talked about this thing between them - not when it started in a hot, cramped hotel room mere minutes after Tulio's decision to depart from the stage, nor any of the many times it nearly ended with one or both of them dying painfully.

In silence, they had discussed it a thousand ways - Tulio's gaze holding his across a crowded room; his own hand clasping reflexively at Tulio's in a moment of terror; Tulio's fingers tracing unknown words over his bare back in the lamplight as he feigned sleep.

To actually hear the words themselves, spoken so plainly and without a hint of guile...Miguel felt his breath catch in his throat, his cheeks grow warm, his heart begin to beat a little faster. For what may have been the first time in his life, he was lost for words.

The only ones he could find, when he leaned close to Tulio, were, "Just for the record, dear fellow, I love you, too."

He saw Tulio's eyes widen, just a little, before he hooked a hand around Miguel's neck and pulled him in for another kiss. This one was slow, almost languid, with Tulio's fingers curling lazily in his hair and his own leisurely tugging Tulio's shirt out of his waistband.

Only the soft rustle of curtain, some minutes later, pulled Miguel from his reverie. He opened his eyes to the Chief leaning on the doorway, arms crossed, amused smile on his face.

Miguel quickly broke the kiss and whispered, "The Chief!"

Tulio, however, merely murmured, "Mmm, darling, if you're mixing me up with the Chief, we really should examine your head more closely," and leaned in to kiss him again.

"Tulio!" Miguel hissed, striking him on the shoulder several times in the hope of dispelling the dazed look on his face. "Tulio! The Chief. Is. Behind you."

Miguel watched the haze disperse as the words hit home. "Chief!" Tulio said, spinning swiftly, "This must look strange to you, but I assure you, we can explain."

"Yes, you see," Miguel interjected, playing along, "this is merely how we exchange salutations in the land of the gods!"

"It must be a most happy place, this land of the gods," the Chief said, still smiling. "And here I was thinking that you and Lord Miguel were practicing for the Mek-Tesh."

"Mek-Tesh?" Miguel and Tulio asked in unison.

"Why, yes!" The Chief said, spreading his hands. "I have been reading all about it in the ancestral texts. It is supposed to usher in peace in the Age of the Eagle."

"Peace," Miguel said, exchanging a look with Tulio. "Peace is good!"

"Yes," Tulio concurred quickly. "Peace, eagles, very good! Just what we were thinking!"

"Well done, my good man!" Miguel finished. "We were just testing you, of course. Mek-Tesh, it is!"

"The people will be most excited to hear it," the Chief said, giving them a little bow. "They have never witnessed a joining ceremony before. I believe it will prove...most enlightening."

"A...joining ceremony, you say?" Tulio asked, clearly trying to make the inquiry sound casual.

"But of course!" the Chief said. Miguel would have sworn there was a distinct twinkle in his eye. "Only a sacred union between two gods can truly bring about the necessary harmony. Shall I start the preparations immediately?"

"Now, listen, Chief, about that..." Tulio began, but Miguel quickly cut him off.

"Yes, absolutely!" Miguel said. "And by all means, pull out all the stops! It's not every day that the gods shower you with such blessings."

"As you wish, Lord Miguel," the Chief replied, eyes definitely twinkling. "Consider it done." With another small bow, he departed from the tent, smiling.

"Miguel," Tulio began, once the Chief was a reasonable distance away. He was employing an even tone that Miguel knew all too well portended a significant blow-up. "Do you remember that little voice that we talked about?"

"The one...that tells people...to quit while they're ahead?" Miguel put on his most endearing grin.

"If you had one, around five minutes ago, what do you think it might have been saying?" Tulio's voice was still deceptively calm, but Miguel knew better than to trust it.

Miguel made a show of looking thoughtful. When he produced no verbal response, Tulio said, "Maybe, just _maybe, _it would have told you to take a little time - a few minutes, perhaps - before _signing us up for a marriage ceremony?!_"

"Oh, don't be like that," Miguel coaxed, throwing his arms around his partner's neck. "Just look how happy it made the Chief!"

"If it makes him so happy, let _him_ usher in the Age of the Eagle," Tulio objected, "just leave me the hell out of it."

"Come on, Tulio." Miguel had no intention of giving up that quickly. "Just think about it; _really _think about it. We wouldn't have to hide anymore. Fleeting moments, dark corners, a stolen kiss or two - don't you want more than that?"

"It's a dream, Miguel," Tulio said, though he sounded less convinced. "How many times have I told you, 'If something seems too good to be true, it probably is'?"

"Maybe that's what this place is," Miguel responded. "Think about it - a city of gold, where we're worshipped as gods? It's already a dream. Why not make the most of it before we wake up?"

He could see Tulio turning things over in his mind, searching for the most profitable angle. Miguel smiled; after so many years, he knew just how to push his partner over the edge at moments like this.

"And besides," he murmured slyly in Tulio's ear, "I'll bet a sacred joining ceremony means presents. _Lots _of presents. Just think of them, Tulio, lots of shiny, _golden_ presents, all lined up in a row.

A familiar gleam entered Tulio's eyes. "There must be at least a thousand people in the city, so if they each bring us two or three presents...Damn it, Miguel, we can't! Don't you see how crazy this is?"

This meant it was time for the big guns. "Oh no, don't you dare -" Tulio began, but this didn't stop Miguel from raising and lowering his eyebrows in rapid-fire fashion, all the while looking appropriately cajoling. "Miguel, would you stop - all right! All right, I'll do it, just...cut it out!"

Miguel grinned and kissed him exuberantly. "You won't regret it, Tulio, I promise."

"Yes, well," Tulio said, blushing just a little. "I'm just doing it for the gold, you know."

"Of course, of course," Miguel said companionably, not believing him for a second. "The gold. Absolutely."

"Mostly the gold. Well, partially," Tulio ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit Miguel recognized well. "I mean, at least a little bit."

Miguel grinned even more broadly and leaned in to kiss him again, murmuring a quick, "Very convincing."

After a minute pulled back to say, "Not the gold, Miguel. Just you. Always you," He looked uncharacteristically earnest.

"I know," Miguel said, reaching up to cup Tulio's cheek in his hand. "But I must say, every now and again, it's nice to hear."

Tulio brushed his lips over Miguel's once more before declaring, "Age of the Eagle, here we come!"


End file.
